A Helper for Hermione
by Eirtae Rebekah
Summary: Ginny thinks Hermione needs a boost of confidence. But what happens when things go awry? Will everyone love or hate the new Hermione?
1. Hermione's Problem

Author's note: This is my first-ever published fanfic, so try to keep an open-mind. ^^;; I wrote this because… well… I'm not all together sure *why* I wrote this. I think that Hermione's lack of confidence concerning certain aspects of herself is the entire cornerstone of her personality and why she is the way she is. Or maybe I just wanted to see a story where she attempted to seduce both Harry *and* Ron. (Oooh… A rarity! Although, it is more Harry than Ron… Oh, well.) Anyway, reviews are greatly appreciated; I don't mind flames either. So… Enjoy!  
  
  
  
Ring!  
  
Like a gun at a marathon, the sound of the class bell signaled the din of students gathering their things and rushing for the door. "I expect those reports on my desk, first thing Monday!" Professor McGonagall called over the clamour, stepping back to avoid the trample of students anxious for their long-awaited weekend.  
  
Hermione was carefully packing up her bottle of ink when she raised her eyes to look over by the door. Apparently Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas were debating who was more deserving of the honour to carry Lavender Brown's books. They took turns thrusting the other out of Lavender's presence, trying to gain her full attention. Hermione gave a small snort, finished gathering her things, and made her way out of the Transfiguration classroom.  
  
Unfortunately, her impeccable timing caused her to move into the flow of hallway traffic a few people behind Lavender, Seamus, and Dean. Apparently they had reached an agreement so that Seamus was carrying her book bag and Dean her textbooks. Now, however, they were battling over who could tell Lavender the funniest joke. More like who can tell the worst joke, Hermione thought darkly as she stalked sulkily down the corridor.  
  
"Why so glum?" Hermione looked to her left to discover the ever- familiar face of Ginny Weasley walking beside her. Ginny was now fourteen years old, which meant her fourth year attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Over the summer, she discarded her now-deemed childish pigtails for a flowing mane of pure ginger, her nails once short from nervous biting for ten beautifully pink almonds, and the androgynous figure of childhood for one that promised a beautiful young woman when fully bloomed. The knowledge of this sparkled in the jade depths that looked up at Hermione, while in another set of eyes, which knew of the attention and affection these changes would draw, it was dreaded.  
  
"Oh. Hullo, Ginny," she greeted the younger girl, her voice trodden with disgust.  
  
"You look like you've got it in for someone," Ginny continued, studying Hermione's almost homicidal expression. Up ahead, Lavender's shrill laughter followed by an "Oh, Seamus!" filtered down to the girls' ears.  
  
"Oh, *Seamus!*" the brown-haired girl mocked, throwing her hand about in a histrionic manner. Ginny put a hand over her mouth, squelching her laughter.  
  
"Jealous, perhaps?" the younger girl concluded, drawing her hand down from mouth. Hermione's hand immediately dropped.  
  
"Jealous?! Jealous of that dim twit?!" she asked, a livid fire burning in her eyes. "Hmph! That'll be the day!" At that, she threw her chin up in the air, her face contorted with indignation and resentment.  
  
Ginny put a reassuring hand on the older girl's shoulder. "I was only kidding, you know." Hermione didn't look convinced. "I'm sure there's plenty of guys who would want to date you," Ginny tried again, "if only you'd…" Her sentence dropped there.  
  
"What?" the brown-haired girl pressed, her eyes lighting up again as her face dropped back down to look at the other girl. "If only I'd what?"  
  
Hesitance written all over her face, Ginny continued. "Well, I read in a magazine once, Lavender's actually, that guys like a girl who…" She stopped, her eyes finding a comforting spot on the floor.  
  
"Come out with it already!" Hermione urged.  
  
"They like a girl who isn't so reserved… One that knows how to have a good time." Ginny prepared herself for the storm.  
  
"Well, one can guess what Lavender calls a good time!" Hermione snorted. "I see her holding hands with a different person every week! Won't be long till every boy in school has had a swing with her!" She stopped her tirade there, her face melting into uncertainty. The flame in her eyes replaced with an almost sadness, she turned to her friend. "Am I really… reserved?"  
  
Ginny gave a little shrug. "Most everyone seems to think so. They all think you spend your life studying. Maybe if you let loose once in a while…"  
  
A sigh escaped Hermione as they stopped in front of the Fat Lady's picture. "Cheer up, 'Mione. We have a trip down to Hogsmeade this weekend," she comforted her friend. Hermione nodded.  
  
Hermione stared searchingly into the mirror. She was going through her usual bedtime ritual in the dormitory bathroom. Wash her face… Comb her hair… Put on her pajamas… Brush her teeth… The "brushing the teeth" part was taking a little longer because she had fallen deep into thought and wasn't aware she had brushed the same part of her teeth four times already. But the only true unusual part of her routine was the time she was doing it.  
  
It was only eight o'clock.  
  
Witnessing the scene with Lavender and the discussion with Ginny this afternoon had shaken her. The look of disconcertment on Ginny's face when Hermione told her to go to dinner without her was still quite visible in her mind, and the same looks that would be on Ron and Harry's face she could clearly imagine. Right now, she needed to be alone. And what better place than the dormitory on a Friday night?  
  
She continued to stare deeply into the mirror. Her greatest talent was not only knowing an answer but also being able to find it. So why was she failing so miserably now? Why was she hoping for an invisible finger to write out an answer for her on the mirror? Hermione finally rinsed her mouth and set down her toothbrush.  
  
~What does Lavender have that I don't?~ Hermione gave a short laugh in spite of herself. ~Lavender doesn't have some tangled, brown bush for hair,~ she thought as she picked up a strand of hair and slowly let it fall back in place. ~"They all think you spend your life studying…"~ Well, pardon her if it was unfashionable to want to be somewhat intelligent. She knew full well what Lavender's pathetic magazines preached: guys like pretty, stupid girls.  
  
She may not fall into the stupid category, but wasn't she at least, to some extent, pretty? Bushiness aside, she always thought she had a fairly attractive face and she had an ideal figure. Hermione took a few steps back from the sink to take a better look at herself. Although not fully visible through her nightdress, she had developed the fashionable slender shape and long legs. Unless a guy wanted some voluptuous-  
  
She recalled the second-most preached thing in Lavender's magazines: guys liked busty girls. How often had she sat in Charms class listening to those two blasted Hufflepuffs snickering about which girls needed an enlargement charm? She really ought to complain to Professor Flitwick… But they had never mentioned her as needing one, right? Still, doubt had instilled itself into Hermione.  
  
She paused. She listened anxiously for any hint of a voice in the dormitory. After a minute, deeming that it was safe, Hermione undid the top buttons on her nightdress. Giving one final listen, she drew her dress from her shoulders and revealed to the mirror her brassiere-ed breasts. She looked intently at her reflection. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with them. ~Of course, the ugliest baby is beautiful to its mother.~ But they at least seemed proportional…  
  
She turned from side to side slowly, trying to spot an imperfection. Maybe she ought to ask someone's opinion? ~Ha!~ Like bloody hell she'd ask Parvati or Lavender and give them the pleasure of seizing dominion over her… Ginny would say that they looked fine, either way… Harry and Ron… Hermione's face went scarlet at that thought. They were her best friends… But what was she supposed to do? Rip off her shirt, shove her chest in their faces, and asked if they liked her breasts?  
  
Still unsure of herself, she cupped her hands under her breasts and experimented, pushing them up and down. They still looked fine to her… Maybe she should find a push-up bra in Hogsmeade?  
  
Hermione was thrown from her thoughts with a crash at the sound of a knock on the bathroom door. She held her breath, her brain pulsing with fear, her heart beating with anxiety. She had been torn from her thoughts and placed into confusion. Not knowing what else to do, she simply stood there as she was.  
  
"'Mione? Ginny said you weren't coming down for-" Hermione's eyes widened.  
  
So did Harry's.  
  
Even if one of them had tried to speak, no words would have been able to penetrate the awkwardness-filled air. So, the two stood there; Harry's hand fixed to the doorknob and Hermione's to her breasts. Silence hung between the two, a hot red seizing their faces. The black-haired boy's lower lip moved gently, as if in preparation for speech. But he said nothing and immediately pulled the door closed.  
  
Movement found Hermione's bones again. She turned sharply from the door, her hands going to her face. Curses struggled through her trembling lips as she fought her slowly weakening knees. Why did she-! Why didn't he-! She was such a-! What an embarrassing-! What was she-! What will he-! Her brain pounded against her skull as all her thoughts raced through it. Her knees finally gave out, and she found the soft texture of the bathroom mat.  
  
Hermione kneeled there in silence for a moment, before the sound of the door once again frightened her. "Hermione?!" the voice, full of concern, belonged to Ginny. "Hermione, are you alright? What happened?"  
  
"I should've realized they put locks on a door for blasted reason!" Hermione moaned through her hands, which still covered her burning face.  
  
Ginny knelt down beside her, a comforting arm going around the older girl's bare shoulders. "What happened?" Ginny repeated. "Harry said he was going to go make sure you were al-" Ginny stopped, staring at Hermione with wide eyes. "Oh, no!" she gasped. "He didn't catch you dressing did he? How positively embarr-! "  
  
The brown-haired girl let her hands fall from her face. "No… not exactly…" She recounted what she had been thinking about and how Harry had walked in at the most inopportune time.  
  
"Well, at least you had a bra on!" the other girl laughed optimistically. "And besides, there's nothing wrong with your bust at all." If only Hermione had placed a wager on that one…  
  
"What am I going to do?" There was anxiety written all over Hermione's face. "How am I supposed to go to Hogsmeade with him and Ron tomorrow? Oh, no!" Now, anxiety was her face. "What if he tells your brother? What if he tells everyone? I'll never be able to live it down! I won't be able to go to class! I won't be able to even go out into the dormitory!"  
  
"Hush," Ginny quieted her, giving her shoulders a comforting squeeze. "I think I know what you need." Hermione looked up at her, hope barely glimmering in her eyes.  
  
"You do?"  
  
"Yes. And I know exactly where to find it in Hogsmeade." 


	2. Ginny's Solution

Author's note: I hope you all are enjoying the story so far. ^-^ If not, give me a review so I can *make* it better! If you found the first chapter a tad boring, don't worry. Things will be heating up relatively quick. But enough blabbing, on with Chapter Two!  
  
  
  
"So…" said Ginny.  
  
"So…" said Ron.  
  
"Nice weather we're having."  
  
"Splendid."  
  
"I'm quite glad it's the weekend, so we can enjoy it."  
  
"Me too."  
  
"Right good weather, if you ask me."  
  
"Couldn't be better."  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"So…" Ginny said, for the sixth time in the past half hour.  
  
This time, Ron didn't make the usual "so…" reply. He was probably as tired as Ginny was at attempting to make conversation, failing, and slipping back into nervous silence. He decided to let the mechanical thunks of the train fill in the awkward gaps. He didn't know what was up, why the view out of the window that they had seen countless times before was now so entirely absorbing to Harry and Hermione.  
  
So, the four Hogwarts students sat silently in the gold and gauche-lined train car aboard the Hogwarts Express. The lush, dark green countryside, which Hermione had always likened to Harry's deep emerald eyes, rolled endlessly by the window. Her brown eyes sought out the face sitting directly across her in the rhythmically wavering train car. Harry's spectacled eyes roved dazedly along the hills. The gentle rocking of the car had seemingly lured him into a trance and he took no notice of the girl's gaze.  
  
Should she say something? But what? From the perplexing look on Ron's face, she discerned that Harry hadn't informed him of the… encounter… the two had the night before. But what if someone else, like Ginny, had walked in instead? Would things have been different? Would they have been able to just laugh it off? Why couldn't it have been that way last night? Things had been so simple when they were kids. Now… now things had become more… complicated. Complicated in ways which Hermione *didn't* want to be complicated.  
  
Hermione's eyes continued to stare listlessly out the window, the trees and meadows and other greenery dissolving into one verdant blur. Its alluring serenity and the motherly rocking of the car was slowing drawing her consciousness farther and farther away from reality, settling her into a deep daydream of jade and gold. Invisible fingers rolled along her eyelids, pushing them halfway closed. It was because of this, that Hermione didn't notice the sharpening outlines of the trees and hills, nor the slow replacement of the rocking by a lurching feeling.  
  
The shrill squeal of the brakes being put on wrenched Hermione from her daydream, but too late. With one final lurch, the train stopped and Hermione flew from her seat. She blinked away the remainder of her reverie and looked up to discover that she had oh-so gracefully landed on the floor… between the knees of Harry. They shared a wide-eyed glance; Hermione remained frozen on the floor, her hands resting on his legs, while Harry remained frozen on the seat, his hands resting in his lap. She could feel the now-familiar burning tingle creeping up her face. Her brain struggled for words to put together but her thoughts were so jumbled that nothing could reach her lips.  
  
"Tsk, tsk Potter…" From the doorway, came the ever-sly, ever-cunning, ever- malicious voice of a certain blond-haired Slytherin. The four occupants of the train car swiveled their heads to look at him; disgust on the faces of Ron and Ginny, disbelief on Harry and Hermione's. "Not only in public, but in front of your best friend *and* his little sister?" Malfoy turned his sneering face to look at the two oafish goonies called Crabbe and Goyle. "Back in my day, you kept that sort of thing behind closed doors." With a humiliating and victorious cackle, the three Slytherins joined the rest of the students who were making their way off the train.  
  
Harry, whose absolute hate of Malfoy seemed to stir circulation back into his muscles, began to stand up. He grasped hold of the now-quivering girl at his feet under the arms, lifting her up as well. "All right there, Hermione?" he asked, trying to force out a small laugh. He held on to her for a moment, afraid that if he let go she would dissolve into a heap on the floor again.  
  
"Hm?" her voice cracked with embarrassment. "Oh… um…" She brushed a stray hair from her face. "I'm fine. Yes… quite fine. Sorry about that…" She added the last part in a nervous whisper.  
  
"Quite alright, quite alright," he replied quickly letting go of her to brush off her shoulders.  
  
"Don't you think we ought to get a jump-start on our shopping?" Ginny burst in, taking hold of the other girl's arm. "We've got an awful lot to do today!" She gave her friend's arm a gentle tug, trying to lead Hermione away as she had fallen into another trance.  
  
"Oh, yes…" she said slowly, her eyes transfixed upon those green eyes.  
  
"We'll see you back on the train! Come *along*, 'Mione!" Upon the word "along," Ginny gave a final, definite tug, breaking the two's locked gaze.  
  
The girls disappeared into the rush of students leaving a confused Ron and an embarrassed Harry alone in the compartment. Ron stared at the door a moment before turning to his friend. "What was that all about?"  
  
"Why me?" Hermione whined once again to her red-haired friend, her head hung low. Ginny was trying to pull Hermione along quickly through the scuttling crowds that filled the streets of Hogsmeade. But the older girl had sunk so deep into misery that she could barely lift her feet from the ground. "Why is it always me? Why can't this happen to… to… to someone *else* for a change?"  
  
Ginny gave her a small, comfort-pat on the back. "The ride home will be quite a thrill, hm?" she joked.  
  
Hermione's eyebrows flew up indignantly. "There will be no ride home! I'm not getting back on that blasted train! I'm never going back to Hogwarts *period*." Her lip pouted slightly. "And you can't make me either."  
  
Ginny put on a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. Once we get what we need for you, things'll start working out a lot better."  
  
Hermione, her curiosity momentarily over-running her melancholy, asked, "Just what is it that we're getting?"  
  
Ginny didn't respond. "We're here!" was all that she proclaimed. The brown- haired girl looked up. They were standing in front of a very ancient- looking shop, with heavy and musty curtains hanging in the windows. On the rickety door hung a fading sign, bearing a single, carved, cursive word: "Open." On the over-hang, another sign, apparent with age, swung gently without a breeze. This one read: "Madame Brewilla's Potions. Varieties of potions since 1685."  
  
Before Hermione could even think of protesting, she was being dragged up the wooden, creaking steps and beyond the aged door. The two girls found themselves in a warm room, dimly lit with tall candles. The stuffy air was filled with the heavy, drowsy scent of incenses. Large, elaborately colored scarves were draped everywhere, and beyond the counter, hanging in the doorway separating the shop from the back room, was an orange and purple beaded curtain.  
  
They stood there a moment, not seeing any bell to ring for service, and wanting to avoid breathing the air as much as possible. Hermione was ready to suggest they go, when a woman appeared in the beaded curtain. For a second Hermione thought she was seeing Professor Trelawney. She was wearing quite a few scarves herself, along with various, large amulets around her neck and at least a dozen rings on her fingers. Behind her, through the parted curtain, they saw shelves and shelves of various potions.  
  
"Aah!" the strange women exclaimed excitedly, clasping her hands together and taking a few steps forward. "Such beautiful young girls in my shop! Yes, come tell Madame Brewilla what she can do for these lovely ladies today." Hesitantly, Hermione and Ginny approached the counter. They both stood there, not sure what to say. Hermione nudged the other girl, jerking her head with a meaningful glance towards Madame Brewilla.  
  
"Oh… um…" Ginny started nervously. "Well, I need a potion for my friend here." She motioned to Hermione.  
  
The woman put on a face of extravagant surprise. "And what in the world would such a perfect girl need? She does not need a love potion or a beauty potion or a smart potion, no?"  
  
"Well, I…" Ginny looked at her friend, nervously. "I think she needs a confidence potion." Hermione's face exploded into shock.  
  
Seeing this, Madame Brewilla waved her hands in the air dismissively. "There is nothing to be ashamed of! Madame Brewilla gets this sort of request everyday. I will return." And with a twirl of scarves and beads, she disappeared into the back.  
  
"Ginny-!" Hermione started, through her clenched teeth.  
  
Ginny raised a hand to quiet her. "Trust me! I'm your friend, Hermione. I wouldn't steer you wrong." The girls didn't have time to continue their argument because a small explosion had issued from the back room.  
  
"Everything is alright! Madame Brewilla will take care of it! No need for worry!"  
  
A few moments later, Madame Brewilla returned, her scarves flapping about as she waved some drifting smoke from the air. Upon the counter, she set down a small glass bottle containing a bluish liquid. She leaned close to the two girls as she spoke. "Each night, put a drop of this in a glass of water and drink. The next morning you wake up a new woman, yes?" They nodded. Ginny's hand moved towards the bottle, but the Madame Trelawney look-a-like quickly held her hand out. "You pay twenty sickles, yes?" Ginny, looking slightly startled, began to fish the money out of her robes. However, Hermione, who seemed to have taken no notice of the red-haired girl's efforts had already produced twenty sickles and exchanged it for the bottle.  
  
The two girls were quite relieved to be out of the dark, dingy shop and in the sunlight and fresh air. As they walked along the crowded streets they examined the bottle. "Do you really think I need this?" Hermione was still dubious of the whole plot and it showed quite clearly in her features.  
  
"We'll try it out one day and see what happens. If you don't like it, we'll chuck the stuff, alright?" Ginny proposed.  
  
"Well… I suppose it won't hurt to see what happens."  
  
Nighttime had fallen on the castle at Hogwarts. The House Prefects were all trying, with little success, to usher their respective houses to bed. But it was Saturday night and the students refused to exchange their chattering in the Common Room for the dull silence of their bedrooms. Many of the first and second years were eagerly gathered around the older students who were showing what they had bought in Hogsmeade that day.  
  
Hermione and Ginny had taken this opportunity to sneak off into the bathroom to try out the Confidence Potion. Ginny perched herself on the sink, a glass of water beside her, as Hermione held up the small vial peering at it through the light. Ginny watched her quietly, anxiously swinging her legs. She desperately wanted to see what was going to result, but Hermione kept examining the bottle, turning it this way and that.  
  
Ginny could take it no longer. "What *are* you trying to do?" she exclaimed finally, her voice heavy with exasperation. "Find out its chemical composition?!"  
  
Hermione heaved a sigh and lowered the bottle. "No, its just that…" she paused, searching for the right words. "I don't think I really need this. I like myself the way I am, Ginny."  
  
At that, Ginny gave a small huff, her shoulders giving a slight sag. "But what if you like yourself *better* afterwards? Just give it a try, alright?" Her hand found Hermione's shoulder. "I'm only asking you to do this for your own sake. Give yourself a little boost. Try it *once* is all I ask."  
  
Hermione looked hesitantly from the bottle to Ginny back to the bottle. She gave another sigh before saying in a relinquished voice, "Hand me the glass." The younger girl's face immediately brightened and she happily handed over the water that sat beside her. Hermione uncapped the bottle and held up the glass and vial. She titled the bottle gently, allowing a single drop of the blue tonic to fall into the water. It slowly diffused through the water, turning it a shade of blue before returning to its normal clarity.  
  
She took a deep breath to settle herself before lifting the glass to Ginny.  
  
"Cheers." 


	3. Harry's Confusion

Author's note: I unfortunately had to halt work on this story, as school was becoming quite… pressing. ^^;; But now I'm on summer holiday! Yay! Thanks to everyone and their encouraging reviews! Don't like my story? Tell me so I can fix it. ^-^  
  
Sunday morning. The golden sunlight that filtered in through the large, cathedral-like windows of Hogwarts still glimmered with the warmth of the passing summer. The enchanted ceiling was coloured cerulean blue, filled with rolling puffs of clouds and glittering sunbeams. It was a refreshing morning, a morning when one can take a deep breath and almost feel reborn. The serenity that filled the air took its effect on the students; they sat about the great dining hall slowly enjoying their breakfast, repeating what a beautiful day it was going to be and how they ought to spend it.  
  
At the Gryffindor table, Harry, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley children were relaxing in the warm, morning atmosphere, savouring the meal that the house elves had once again cooked without flaw. "Hermione ought to get her lazy self down here before all the food's gone," Ron said between his cheekful of scrambled eggs. "She was *still* in the bathroom when we left!" None but Ginny noticed the light flush that caught Harry's cheeks. "Honestly, what *is* she doing?" Ron had by now swallowed his eggs, and he looked at his sister for some sort of answer.  
  
Ginny merely shrugged. "Maybe she's putting a little…" Her hand waved about as if trying to catch the answer in midair. "…rouge on or something." Harry and Ron exchanged glances while Fred and George did the same. The four then burst out laughing.  
  
"Hermione? Putting on make-up?!" George exclaimed, trying to contain his laughter enough to talk. "And I suppose McGonagall's up there giving her some pointers?" That started a whole 'nother round of chortling.  
  
As Ginny shot her older brother a dirty look, the chattering at the end of the Gryffindor table had evaporated into frantic whispers. Harry and the Weasleys took no notice of its diffusion down towards their end of the table. As their laughter over George's joke slowly died out, it was interrupted by a morning greeting from behind Harry and Ron. The two looked around to see a strange girl with a familiar face… Wait, of course the face was familiar… It was Hermione!  
  
They looked down at her feet, finding her usual pair of Mary Jane's, then her usual pair of gray knee socks, then her knees, then her legs… and more of her legs… and more of her legs… and even more… where her usual pleated skirt *ought* to be. Finally, their eyes came across the hem of it, about five miles higher than it usually was, followed by her white button-up blouse, which (due to the bulky sweater she normally wore) hugged her figure a lot more than anyone had guessed and seemed to be un-buttoned a few too many times at the top. Indeed, Ginny had been right about why Hermione had taken so long in the bathroom. She had lightly made-up her face, but any make-up on Hermione's face was considered startling. Not to mention her hair! All bushiness had been cleared away for a straight, silky mane of auburn.  
  
And it wasn't simply her physical appearance that was stunningly different. Harry noticed something else. She carried herself with a whole new air; her aura seemed aglow with self-assurance. And there was a brightness in her eyes, that he had seen only a few times during their friendship.  
  
Ginny was the first to say something. "Hermione! You look so… nice!" she cried ecstatically. There was a tint of pride in her voice, like the kind one has when they are viewing their finished creation.  
  
"I'm glad you like," she replied coolly, as if a day in her life had never gone by without her receiving a compliment.  
  
"Are you sure you don't have Ginny's skirt on by mistake?" Ron said as Hermione sat down across from him, his eyes so wide they threatened to fall from their sockets.  
  
But Hermione smiled. "You mean this old thing? I just had it lying around," she replied, coyness coating her voice. "Pardon my reach." Harry, who had been exchanging looks of disbelief with his best friend, realized Hermione stretching over him to fetch an apple. He also realized that she was providing him with a most… interesting view… He quickly jolted his eyes away; he'd already seen enough of that to last him a lifetime.  
  
"'Morning Hermione!" came two synchronized and familiar voices.  
  
"Good morning Seamus, Dean," she replied in an astonishingly charismatic voice, her fingers fluttering lightly in greeting. They both waved back, the same excitement showing in them they had displayed in front of Lavender only days before.  
  
Ron was still frozen in his seat, completely dumbstruck, his forkful of eggs still hanging in midair. His lips twitched, trying to form some arrangement of words to convey his utter disbelief. Harry found himself in the exact predicament as he watched Hermione nonchalantly take a bite from her apple. It was a little frightening to observe the… alluring way her pearly teeth pierced the scarlet flesh of the fruit… the way her tongue ran along her soft lips, gathering from them the trickles of sweet jui—  
  
"Oi! Harry! We best be getting to practice!" Harry jolted away from his thoughts. He looked after the Weasley twins blankly, who had already started out of the Great Hall, before finally understanding what they had said. Giving a slow nod, he started to rise from the table. Ron, who finally regained mobility, smacked the table with his fist.  
  
"That's right! You wouldn't want to miss your first Quidditch practice as Captain!" He looked as if it had been him who had made Quidditch Team Captain, instead of Harry.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione cried ecstatically, throwing her arms around one of Harry's and forcing him back into his seat. "How come you never told?" She was leaning dangerously close to him.  
  
"Well… I…" Harry forced out with much fluster, pushing his disheveled glasses up on his nose with his free hand. "I was going to tell you last night, but…" He swallowed hard. Hermione laughed.  
  
"Ah, yes… Last night."  
  
"Last night?" Ron asked, confusion reclaiming him.  
  
"Forge and Gred—er, Fred and George, are right. I'm going to be late." Harry stuttered quickly, standing up quite awkwardly. "See you at the field, Ron," he continued, trying to get away before anyone noticed the flush rising to his cheeks.  
  
"Wait." Hermione had latched on to his arm again, and was giving him a most… interesting look. "I'll come with you." She stood as well, apple in hand, tossing Ron a smile and Ginny a wink. Ron raised his hand in a distracted farewell and Ginny flashed her a thumbs-up.  
  
The two Gryffindor fifth years emerged out into the gleaming warmth of the sunlight and onto the fresh and verdant grass of Hogwarts's lawn, heading towards the school's Quidditch field. From here, Harry could see the sunbeams iridescently glinting off the metal scoring hoops. It was one thing to observe such a beautiful day from inside the castle, but an entirely different thing to actually experience it first hand. Had he ever known a more perfect day? The wind blew like a soft whisper in his ear, the sun caressing his face with a warm hand… Wait—or was that Hermione?  
  
He looked down to see her still hugging his arm. It wasn't like it felt *bad*—heck, it actually felt somewhat nice—but he was bothered by it nonetheless. It was so strikingly un-Hermione for her to be so… Casual? Open?  
  
She was looking up at him now, smiling that odd smile she had so recently acquired. "I think it's just *fabulous* that you made Captain." She gave his arm a squeeze. "I never doubted you for a second. Wasn't I right when I said it was in your blood?" He gave a somewhat feeble smile.  
  
"I guess so. But I think Alicia deserved the spot more…"  
  
"Nonsense!" Hermione laughed, relinquishing her grip to give him a playful push. "I think you're the best Quidditch player Hogwarts has ever seen," she continued flattering him, a smirk playing across her face.  
  
Harry tried to smile back again, feeling a strange relief when they had reached the entrance to the changing rooms at the field. "I'll see you… out… on the… thing…" he jerked his hand towards the arena. Hermione nodded, leaning in close to him one last time. "Too bad I can't come in with you." Harry felt his knees nearly give out, but she had already started off, disappearing in the flash of a flirtatious smile. 


End file.
